Vi Chronicles: My Sister’s Boyfriend

When Vi and Tony moved to Hartford, Connecticut, my sister, Ann Marie, was still in High School. It must have been daunting to move from our small home town to a city and a large, diverse high school.  She approached it with her usual common sense and confidence. In no time she had friends and…

Predatory Queso Consumption

Chipotle just started making queso. I love queso so I bought some yesterday, along with some tacos. I was disappointed at the size of the container. It was so small. When I got home, my family, not very saavy from a culinary perspective, eyed it suspiciously. I played it cool-no sudden moves. I busied myself…

Some are Starters and Some are Finishers

Our back yard is a mess. There were high winds last night that blew branches off trees all over town. It appears that most of them landed in our backyard. I feel badly for BigB who spent a lot of time this summer getting the backyard in order. He had the fence repaired, cleaned and…

Pumpkin Challenge

It’s pumpkin carving time in the Chicken coop. Every year littleb scours the internet for ideas and I do my best to duplicate his choice. Some years are more successful than others. This year’s skull pumpkin was a challenge. It was more challenging to get a good shot of it. I got a new laptop…

Rules for the ICU

It’s cold:  Bring a parka for sleeping. Hoard blankets. It’s uncomfortable: It’s uncomfortable to see her uncovered, wearing a thin hospital gown, in a room with a temperature of roughly 60 degrees, while you huddle in your parka and a heated blanket the nurse gave you. They need to get her temperature down. You can’t…

Shopping Hell (A Christmas Carol)

Dashing to the mall With the family today Whose idea was this? Fighting all the way. The lights won’t ever change This traffic is so slow It’s so hard to find a space To park the car and go   Ohhhhh Shopping Hell, Shopping Hell Shopping all day long One has to pee, one wants…

Butter Files: For the love of God, give that baby a pickle!

My father wants me to give the baby a pickle.  Inside my head, where he lives now, I can hear his voice. He’s been pestering me since we passed the pickle aisle. He’s a little insulted, frankly, that the baby hasn’t already been indoctrinated to these and other vinegary delights (he’s also a big fan…